


The minutes in between.

by millygal



Series: Stydia's comment fic meme [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, dying!dean, end of life, old!chesters, sad!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 07:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11179734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: The end of a life lived, if not well, then fully.





	The minutes in between.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelus2hot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelus2hot/gifts).



> Prompt - Supernatural, Dean/Sam, it's the last time. For angelus2hot. Thank you jj1564 for the wonderful beta ♥

Dean struggles against the hospital corners holding him hostage and growls at the pillows beneath his head, fluffed to within an inch of their life. “Sammy, I can’t stay here, it’s drivin’ me insane.”

Sam winces and groans at the creaking of his bones as he leans down and drops a gentle kiss onto Dean’s wrinkled forehead. “Dean, you’re - you’re - ill. I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and regrets it as his vision swims.

Reaching out for his glasses that are sitting on the bedside table, Dean clucks at Sam who’s snatched them away and is resting them on the end of his brother’s nose. “Dude, _stop it_. I’m dyin’, I’m not **dead**.”

Sam’s close to tears, again, and he knows how much it infuriates Dean, so he turns away to wipe his eyes and blow his nose, making a disgusting sound and forcing a chuckle from his bed-bound brother. 

“Man, you are such a precious flower. Get me up, would you?”

Sam sighs and reaches down to tug the edges of the sheet away from Dean’s frail body. “Fine, but if you drop dead on the way to the fridge, don’t go blaming me.”

Dean allows Sam to shoulder his weight from the bed and rests heavily against his brother’s side. “I’m ninety-fuckin’-two if I peg it on the way to the kitchen to grab a beer - “

“No beer.”

“Fuck off. If I want a beer I’ll have a damned beer. Stop your whinin’.

Sam’s all but given up the pretext of trying to look after Dean. Even in the final stages of heart failure, the man is a living nightmare to nurse, and fuck him if he isn’t proud as hell.

Sliding his arm around Dean’s ribs, Sam scratches absentmindedly at the saggy flesh of his side and is pleased to hear a breathless giggle coming from his brother before getting a smack on the chest and spittle in his hair as Dean coughs from the effort. “Lovely. I remember when I used to get saliva in all sorts of places, but never my hair.”

Depositing Dean in his favourite chair, Sam scrubs at the matted clumps of hair, white with age and thinning day by day. “You’re gross, you know that?”

Dean grins, showing gaps in his smile where teeth have succumbed to time, or the many arguments with creatures who have no regard for the price of dentures, before waggling his arthritic fingers at Sam. “Come here.”

Sam braces for the movement and drags a footstool in front of Dean’s knees then lowers himself down slowly. “Do you need something?”

“You, you fool.”

Sam sees a spark of defiance and debauchery in his brother’s eyes and he’s amazed that at his age and with all his physical ailments, Dean can even contemplate the thought of doing something that used to be so easy for the pair of them. “Not on your life, I’d rather you didn’t check out with my cock down your throat.”

Dean huffs a laugh and leans forward, placing his hands either side of Sam’s smiling face. “Who says you’d be toppin’? And as much as I’d _love_ to be able to give it the old college try, I think those days are beyond me. However, how about a kiss for the gorgeous guy who always knew how to make your toes curl?”

Sam slides his lips against Dean’s and enjoys the familiar tingle slowly building at the base of his skull, and as the kiss deepens Sam brings a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, but he can feel his brother’s breath slowing, so pulls away and stares at him for a moment.

The colour in Dean’s cheeks is fading and his eyes are rheumy, but full of affection and laughter, and Sam takes a second to press their foreheads together whilst mumbling, “I love you”, before closing his eyes tight against the slew of tears threatening to burn his cheeks.

“Love you too, Bitch.”

When Sam pulls away and looks down at Dean, his brother’s eyes are closed and his chest is still, but there’s a smile on his face that speaks of precious memories and a life lived together.

The tears come now, drip freely down Sam’s chin as he reaches out and squeezes Dean’s hand one last time. “Goodbye, Jerk. See you soon.”

 

 

  
Fin.


End file.
